Musings on a Saturday Morning
by MissMelysse
Summary: Oneshot set within chapter 13 of CRUSH II: Ostinato. When she asked for a break, she never told him what he was supposed to do with HER Saturday mornings. Data/Zoe (though she's not really in it).


**Disclaimer:** ** _Star Trek: the Next Generation, the_** **U.S.S. Enterprise** ** _, and all the canon characters belong to CBS/Paramount. The rest is mine._**

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 **Musings on a Saturday Morning**

 **Stardate 44880.62**

 **Saturday, 18 November, 2367, 10:16 hours, ship's time**

Spot's meow pulled his attention from the mineral analysis he had been working on, but only long enough to say, "Hush, Spot, you have already eaten breakfast, and it is not yet time for a treat. I must complete this project."

Data was not entirely certain when he had begun conversing with his cat, albeit in a rather one-sided arrangement. His research had shown him that many single pet-owners did the same thing, and yet, he _was_ certain that he was neither personifying the small furry creature, nor expecting her to respond in any useful fashion.

Spot jumped up onto his desk and switched her tail in front of the monitor where his report was displayed. "Spot, we have been through his before," he told her, picking her up and depositing her onto the carpet near his feet. The motion was both efficient and gentle. He would never harm his cat.

 _Harm._ The word circled in his brain, defined automatically by subroutines of which he was barely conscious. _Harm. Primary definition: physical injury or mental damage; hurt. Secondary definition: moral injury, evil, wrong._ Had his actions two weeks before harmed Zoe? He believed they had, but he also believed that interfacing with his brother's data solid had been necessary.

 _Wrong_. _Primary definition: not in accordance with what is morally right or good. Secondary definition: deviating from truth or fact, erroneous. Tertiary definition: not correct in action, judgment, opinion, method, etc. Quaternary definition: not proper or usual._ It was after ten hundred hours on a Saturday morning, and he was alone with his cat, working on something that was neither urgent nor terribly interesting, because something had prevented him from scheduling activities in the block of time that was usually hers. Working at this time of day, and week, was neither proper nor usual.

 _Wrong, definition continues. Quinary definition: out of order, awry, amiss._ He missed her, he realized. She had become so much a part of the pattern of his days that her absence caused a profound longing in him.

"Longing is an emotion," she would have said, if she were there. "Longing, yearning, wanting, wishing…those are _all_ emotions."

He would have countered that they were _conditions._

 _She_ would have laughed at him and said, "Whatever," blowing off (her phrase) an exploration into his…psyche…that they were, neither of them, quite prepared to undertake…yet.

Still, he could not deny that her absence was keenly…experienced. He could not dispute that the block of time he had reserved for her, expanded to three hours upon her return from San Francisco, and lately extended far beyond that as music had led to shared lunches, conversations about books and art and travel – the result of her unconventional childhood meant that she had a much wider experience with those things than he believed was typical for young women of her age and origin – remained unfilled with work or other pursuits because it seemed wrong to give her time away, even if she was not using it just now.

 _Wrong, definition continues. Senary definition: not suitable or appropriate._ She was concerned, he knew, that there were aspects of their - he could no longer call it a friendship – relationship then – of their _relationship_ that were inappropriate, and yet, the little intimacies they had begun to share did not seem so to him. If pressed, if given the choice to go back, to start over as nothing more than student and teacher, he knew he would decline the opportunity. He was equally certain she would, as well.

Spot pawed at his leg again, breaking his reverie. The cat waited for his attention, then stalked over to the couch, leaped onto the seat, and scratched lightly at Zoe's corner, then let out a piteous _meeeeeoooowwwwwwrrr._

Data left his chair and moved to take his usual position on the couch, calling his pet to his lap. "Yes, I understand, Spot," he said in his most soothing voice, the one calculated to relax his feline friend in the shortest amount of time. "I miss her, also."

Slight movement from the other side of the couch caught his attention. Android vision focused on the source, and determined it to be a stray strand of hair. Zoe's hair. Moving the cat to his opposite side, he stretched his arm to claim the reddish-brown thread. No human would detect the scent of shampoo on a single hair, but he could. Tropical fruit and soap. Traces of the same scent still lingered in his shower. He held out his arm, released the hair from between his thumb and forefinger, and watched it drift to the floor.

If he and Zoe had moved irrevocably beyond teacher and student, if they could no longer claim to be 'just friends,' then what were they? And were they anything if she was not…here?

Or, was she always here, always with him in some fashion, now that she had taken up residence in every aspect of his programming?

He consulted his internal chronometer.

It was now 10:18 hours.

Returning to work suddenly seemed _wrong_ , but he did not wish to play music during her time, if she was not here to play with him.

Perhaps he would paint.

Perhaps he would paint _her_.

Easel, canvases, paints, brushes, palette – all were set up in seconds. Standing before the first blank rectangle, brush at the ready, he accessed his memories of her, sorting, picking…choosing.

He would begin with her hair, the way it was the night they had first shared a video, the night she had – the night they had first shared a 'real' kiss.

His brush touched the canvas, and another word began to circle in his head.

 _Muse (verb). Primary definition: to think or meditate in silence, as on some subject. Secondary (archaic) definition: to gaze meditatively or wonderingly. Synonyms: cogitate, contemplate, deliberate, ruminate. Secondary synonyms: ponder, think, dream._

 _Muse (noun). Primary definition: [redacted]. Secondary definition: the goddess or power regarded as inspiring a poet, artist, musician, or thinker._

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 **Notes:** Definitions courtesy of Dictionary DOT com, with some minor tweaks. I'm not entirely certain where this came from, except sometimes it's fun to play with structure. Consider it a companion to _Three Little Words_. Takes place during Chapter 13 ("Endurance") of _Crush II: Ostinato._ Confession: I'm highly allergic to cats, so most of Spot's behavior is based on that of my chihuahua, who THINKS he's a cat.


End file.
